Grace was the first of my three greyhound. I've had people say "how could you replace her?" when in reality, she was so wonderful, I felt she would lead me to Brutus Maximus, and, now, Legend.
I don't know who was the photographer for this photograph, and the hospital (2014) managed to lose my signature ring (seen here) but NOBODY could replace Grace.
"Paycheck Annie" really sounded like a whore, and after a rat terrier and a pug, I inadvertently upgraded to a LARGER dog (and my apartment lease said "no dogs" and I went to see the apartment WITH the dog!) but, there I was, standing at NEW BEGINNINGS (the adoption agency) and after three hours or so playing with some twenty dogs, the dog the owner said was perfect for me was placed on my lap, while I sat in a regular folding chair. (Note: Folding chairs and dogs are note really all that compatible!)
And then there was that moment that all dog adopters hope for, and look for: that look which connects both souls.
And sitting on my lap for an hour, and not moving, "Paycheck Annie" just gave me a look which would have melted chocolate or butter or dry ice.
I knew she was mine.
Grace died 11 years ago, today.
But it is to her heart and soul that I have continued to adopt greyhounds (Brutus Maximus, and now, Legend). And I managed to get her to CT for almost 4 full years, and she LOVED the snow (it really was a riot) and I am so happy I captured her on video.
But the pond scum who "owned" her before me thought nothing of sticking her with steroids in her right haunch. Bastards. I nearly died when I saw the x-ray of her thigh. It looked like someone shot her with a bb gun. If I kept her, it would have been a shatter break (not a clean break) and the pain level of a shatter break is unbearable.
So just like she came into my life, on a random day, she left me. And they even had to give her three shots of the "blue fluid" because she kept fighting to come back. God bless Dr Clancy.
It was rough. It was heart-breaking.
But it led me to the rescue adoptions of greyhounds, the most magical creatures of my world.
Brutus Maximus left me early to be with the Sandy Hook/Newtown children.
And, if he behaves himself, Legend has already found his place in my heart.
So, thank you, Grace, on the 11th anniversary of your passing over to the dog park in the sky.
Labels: euthanasia, Grace the dog, greyhound rescue., greyhounds, pets dying